Guardian
by gemma
Summary: A very short filk from Harry's POV on what his life was like before book one. Please let me know what you think.


Guardian  
By [Gemma_@SoftHome.net][1]  
  
Description: A very short filk from Harry's POV on what his life was like before book one. Please let me know what you think.  
  
Notes: This is posted without a beta reader, take care not to trip over grammar and spelling errors. :) This is a really short short that came to mind, and wrote, now I present it to you. Please review it and let me know waht you think! Thank you for reading. (For all you reading my 'Good summer day' serial, don't worry. I am taking a small break. I nearly have part three done.)  
  
***  
  
The sky was a kind of deep brilliant blue that hurt your eyes to look at. Not a single cloud marked the field of blue. It was a odd to see a day like it in England were it nearly always rained, or at least that was partly covered in clouds.   
  
People went about their important errands in the square, taking little noticed of a small back haired boy sitting off to the side on a stone bench in over sized clothing. He had been sitting there for over three hours. No one had noticed him because of his care in keeping to himself. He drew close to the wall, and did not make eye contact with anyone. He was after all, under orders.  
  
Brushing his disheveled hair away from his eyes, he made his circular black glassed more noticeable. They were slightly bent at the nosepiece, were they were taped many times with tape. Also noticeable was the red lighting shaped scar on his forehead.  
  
He could not help noticing people as they pass him. There was little else for him to do. It was a few weeks till Christmas and many of the people who passed him carried bags, filled with gifts and many good things to eat brimming from the tops they were so over filled. He tried not to think of the food, it made him even hungrier. He also saw families pass him too. A mother and father with one or more children pass. They all wore happy grins. That hurt too, but in a different way than his hunger. He could not help wondering why things were different for him.  
  
Guilt ate at him. He knew he should be grateful to have someone to look over him; to cloth him and feed him . . . but as many a times he was told those very things he knew something was missing. It wasn't the examples he saw daily pass him by, but something more in his heart that told him family meant more.   
  
He could not understand why his aunt and uncle hated him. It was simple as that. He tried his very best to behave, doing everything he was asked, and yet it was never enough for them. He wondered if it was really himself? What could it be that he had done without knowing that made them feel the way they did?   
  
'Perhaps his parents?' he wondered. When his thoughts turned to faceless people he had only briefly been told about he felt nothing but loss. It worried him that the sadness he felt was from not knowing them - not from their death. He felt as if he should feel more. Their not being there deserved more than the nothingness he felt. He wished more than anything that he remembered them.  
  
Turning his attention back to the people who kept walking past, tall, short, young, and old. Some looked rushed, and some walked by slowly taking in the day. He looks up at the sky, filled with so much blue.   
  
A blur of that same blue made him look away from the sky.  
  
Across the square, roughly twenty meters away an old man stood, looking directly at him. He was an odd looking chap, dressed in a long flowing sky blue robe and an odd pointy hat. His eyes shined brightly and he smiled at him. It had been a long time that anyone had done that, if ever, he could not remember. He knew something should be wrong with this, but felt no fear, and smiled back.  
  
"Time to go boy," a familiar voice told him sternly.  
  
He looked away and to his Uncle who now stood next to him. He nodded and followed. Sidestepping movie popcorn his cousin carelessly cast to the ground, he looked back at the blue robed man,   
  
But he was gone.  
  
Fin

   [1]: mailto:Gemma_@SoftHome.net



End file.
